


Golden

by MemeKonYOI (MemeKonYA)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Love Bites, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKonYA/pseuds/MemeKonYOI
Summary: “It’s okay, Victor. You can touch, you can do whatever you want. I want you. I want all of you.”Victor hisses, and Yuuri can see his cock twitch, already leaking for him.“That’s a dangerous thing to say, мое солнце. I could eat you up.”Yuuri smiles.“Then do it.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Yuuri, my favorite katsudon.  
> (Unbeta'ed.)

Victor _whines_. A pitiful little sound that has Yuuri throbbing and panting. Victor’s thighs are trembling, spread for him. His cock stands proud and flushed, shiny, still spit-slick from Yuuri’s own mouth. He is a sight for sore eyes right then and there, on his knees for him, hands firmly clasped together behind his back, hair dishevelled, skin tinged with pink, eyes intense and fixed on him, wanting, _waiting_.

“What do you want, котенок?” Victor asks, leaning forward until he can rub his cheek against one of Yuuri’s legs, eyes sliding shut as if in bliss from just that little point of contact. Yuuri reaches out and runs a hand through Victor’s silky hair, who sighs at the touch. He sees Victor’s hands twitching behind his back, and he smiles.

“I want you,” he says, simple, clear, loud as a shot in the silence of their room. He always feels bolder when they’re together like this, with Victor coming undone for him in a million different ways, crumbling for his touch, needy and messy and shameless about it, not wanting to hide any of it, not needing to. He always feels bolder and irresistibly seductive, and like a king amongst kings. It’s like the thrill he gets on the rink, with Victor looking only at him while the world watches from the sidelines.

He lets his fingers comb through Victor’s slightly damp hair until he’s tracing the line of Victor’s neck. He lets his touch linger there, spreading his fingers across Victor’s nape.

Victor shudders and looks up at him. There’s softness in his gaze, but more evidently there’s a glazed over look in it that Yuuri has become intimately familiar with. He touches himself lazily with his other hand, soft and feathery, and Victor’s eyes follow the motion with _hunger_ in them.   
  
“You already have me,” Victor replies then, a promise buried under the filthy way he half-pants the words out.

Yuuri feels a dizzying rush of lust, feels heady from it. He makes a loose fist around his cock, and tugs a couple of times, eyes on Victor.

Victor doesn’t disappoint. He shuffles closer on his knees, hands still tightly clasped behind his back, and he buries his face between Yuuri’s spread legs, inhaling deeply, eyes on him and full of lust as he cocks his head to the side and his cheek brushes the hand Yuuri has around his erection.

Yuuri smiles down at him, and gets a smile pressed into his skin in return.

He tightens his hold on Victor’s nape, only to hear him gasp and see his eyelashes flutter as he blinks his eyes slowly a couple of times, as if drunk. He turns his face so he can place open mouthed kisses over Yuuri’s hand, Yuuri’s breath hitching at the gesture. He presses the thumb of the hand he has on Victor’s nape under his jaw and Victor’s mouth falls open, moaning, and Yuuri shudders under the warmth and humidity of Victor’s breathing against his cock.

He jerks himself slowly, Victor’s mouth trailing his movements, licking messily between Yuuri’s fingers when his fist is at the base, getting him wet with sloppy open mouthed kisses when Yuuri’s teasing the head, greedily following veins with his tongue.

Yuuri presses his thumb to Victor’s jaw again, and then teases his cock against Victor’s open lips. Victor looks up at him as he tongues at the glans, as he collects the pre-come dripping from the slit with the tip of his tongue and then swallows it, as he drops kisses and sucks softly.

Victor pouts at him when he pushes him slightly away, straining a little against his hold for the first time. Yuuri shakes his head though, and adjusts his position until he has his feet propped up on the bed, legs spread. He smiles smugly when Victor gasps at the realization of what Yuuri is offering, and he just nods his head dumbly, almost tripping over himself in his haste to crawl closer, his arms shaking with the effort it’s taking him to keep them where they are.

Yuuri laughs, and takes his hand from the back of Victor’s neck to pet his hair, and caress the side of his face, thumb tracing Victor’s cheekbones, and then the corner of his lips —Victor sucks at his thumb for a few seconds, eager to have him in any way he can, and Yuuri _throbs_.

“It’s okay, Victor. You can touch, you can do whatever you want. I want you. I want _all_ of you.”

Victor _hisses_ , and Yuuri can see his cock twitch, already leaking for him.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say, мое солнце. I could _eat you up_.”

Yuuri smiles.

“Then _do it_.”

Victor doesn’t need any more encouragement than that, moving fast enough to give Yuuri whiplash.

Suddenly it feels like he’s everywhere at once, lips bruising the insides of his thighs, sucking marks into his skin, biting, soothing the sting with feather-like kisses before doing it all over, blowing hot puffs of air over his skin, making him shudder and keen. He’s there putting a hand to his chest and pushing him down, claiming his lips in a messy, playful kiss, biting at his lower one before he’s dragging himself away and grabbing Yuuri’s ankles to put his legs over his shoulders. Yuuri laughs at the enthusiasm of it all, happiness intermingled with his want, blooming inside him like flowers in spring, overflowing as Victor’s smile grows and he drops a soft kiss on one of Yuuri’s knees.

Yuuri only has a second to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, before Victor is burying his face in Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri can’t stop himself from fisting Victor’s hair and yanking, and Victor bites at one of his cheeks in retaliation before he goes back to tracing his tongue around Yuuri’s hole, slobbery and thorough as he finds a rhythm of tracing, prodding and sucking until Yuuri’s sloppy and pliant and ready for Victor’s tongue to fuck him, fast and shallow, and enough to have Yuuri panting, with a hand on the back of Victor’s head, pulling him in, trying to get him deeper, deeper where Yuuri _needs_ him.

Victor rims him until he’s a mess, barely enough left of a person to emit a sad little moan when he draws back, licking his lips like the cat who got the cream, only a hundred times filthier.

Yuuri’s all _ah, ah, ah_ s and moans and sighs as Victor preps him, fingering him slowly and maddeningly, angling his fingers to nail Yuuri’s sweet spot with every burning drag. He can feel the lube sliding down his cleft, cooling on his hot skin, and he can hear the obscene sound of Victor’s fingers inside him, can see the way he’s watching every reaction of his like a hawk. It’s sensory overload, with Victor holding onto one of his legs and dropping kisses on his knee with quiet words full of praise and heat as he gets him wet and open for his pretty, pretty cock.

“Victor, come on,” he urges when he finally finds his voice, and enough of his brain to be able to utter more than a single garbled syllable, “come on, come on. Fuck me. You said— you asked me what I want, right? I want you to _fuck me_ , come on.”

Victor shushes him, lovingly, and drags his eyes for a second towards the door, reminding Yuuri of where they are, and Yuuri has enough presence of mind to be mortified about anyone hearing them —about his _parents_ hearing them— for a moment, so he nods.

He doesn’t stop, however. He cants his hips to meet the thrusts of Victor’s fingers.

“Come on,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, breathy as he fucks himself on Victor’s fingers. “Come on, Victor, I’m so ready for you. Come _on_.”

Victor curses under his breath as he watches Yuuri grinding his hips against his hand, and finally nods, as if in a trance.

Yuuri smirks, and taunts Victor as he uncaps the lube and gets himself slick for Yuuri by dragging his thumb over the slit of his own dripping cock and then licking himself clean, moaning around his thumb as he sucks, putting on a show.

“You don’t play fair, котенок,” Victor groans as he lines himself up with Yuuri, looking down at him in awe.

Yuuri maintains eye contact and tries not to overthink what he’s about to say.

“But you love me anyway.”

Victor slams his hips against Yuuri’s, burying himself deep inside him in one thrust— Yuuri gasps, clawing at the sheets, and then crossing legs at the ankles around Victor. Victor leans down and kisses him tenderly, and when they part he says _yes, yes I do_ against Yuuri’s swollen lips.

He fucks Yuuri just like he rimmed him, slow, deep, burning him from within, rocking against him thoroughly, with intent; watching Yuuri unravel underneath him, so full of Victor, to the brim, overflowing.

He gets a hand on Yuuri’s cock as he settles on a more grueling rhythm, faster, nailing his prostate on every thrust, angling his hips _just so_ for Yuuri. He jerks him off at that same pace, and Yuuri’s hips thrust desperately, wanting _more_ , _more_ of everything, more of Victor fucking him into the mattress, more of Victor’s hand on him just the way he likes, grip perfect, strokes perfect.

Victor starts sucking bruises on his neck, telling him that they’ll heal in time for the Grand Prix Final, like he’s trying to justify the mess he’s making of Yuuri, the way he’s marking him all up; like he needs to, for some reason. And he doesn’t, he doesn’t— Yuuri will— he’ll wear sweaters, of a scarf, or— but Victor can, he _can_.

He only notices he’s babbling this when Victor starts groaning, and whispering encouragement against his skin, kissing and biting and saying filthy things about how well Yuuri is taking it, how gorgeous he looks with Victor inside him, how gorgeous he _is_ , how _amazing_ — about how happy he is that Yuuri wants to be Victor’s, just like Victor wants to be his.

It’s this last statement, whispered in a hurry, quiet and breathy, a little slurred, accompanied by a deep thrust and a flick of Victor’s thumb over the head of his cock that pushes him right over, shuddering and biting his lips against a moan, clawing at Victor’s back.

Victor comes a short while after, thrusting fast and punishing until he’s buried himself into the deepest parts of him, and then he’s closing his eyes and dropping his mouth open, his whole body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

“Congratulations,” Victor tells him in a purr after they’ve both somewhat caught their breath. He fingers the ribbon that’s still hanging around Yuuri’s neck and then lifts his gold medal— his _first_ gold medal— and kisses it, before kissing Yuuri. Then he rubs their noses together and gives a sappy, loving smile. “And happy birthday.”

Yuuri smiles, and rubs their noses together some more. Victor’s hair is getting longer and tickling him a little but he stays like that, nose to nose, just so they can gaze at each other for a little while longer.

They both start laughing quietly when they hear insistent scratching at the door, accompanied by soft, pitiful whining.

Victor opens the door for Makkachin, and Makkachin trots over to the bed with his tail wagging happily. Yuuri motions for him to jump up, and soon the three of them are cuddling in Victor’s bed, with Makkachin’s tail still thumping against the sheets as both Yuuri and Victor fall asleep, smiles still firmly set on their faces as they hold hands over Makkachin, Yuuri still wearing his medal.

  


(The next morning while they are all together having breakfast, Mari looks him dead in the eye and smirks.  
  
“So that’s how a gold medalist celebrates, huh.”

Yuuri chokes on his rice, and Victor bursts out laughing —shameless and loud— as he leans on him.)

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> [ Come and hang out with me on tumblr!](http://memekon.tumblr.com)


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